WASHINGTON, DC
Almost a month had passed since the 7th New York Regiment had arrived in Washington, and now the city, which housed sixty thousand citizens before the war started, was teeming with twenty thousand volunteer soldiers. New camps popped up every day, and the sound of drumming could be heard almost constantly. Soldiers clogged the streets, the parks, and the public buildings. They bivouacked in the White House, the Capitol, Georgetown College, Columbia College, the Washington Arsenal, churches, and dozens of other buildings the government rented for their use. In addition, the army had set up bakeries in the Capitol basement. Twenty ovens were installed, producing fifty-eight thousand loaves of bread a day.
And now, just days after Virginia’s official vote to secede from the Union, troops were moving across the Long Bridge and the Chain Bridge from Washington to overtake Alexandria County, Virginia, and Arlington House, the home of RobertE. Lee, the Confederate General.
Though the war was imminent and there was so much todo, I still had to go on with my social life as usual, at Papa’s request. Luncheons, balls, and soirees. Entertaining and being entertained. There was a part of Washington society that still pretended nothing had changed, though to their credit, they turned many of their events into fundraisers. But not all the events I attended were used for the Union’s cause. Some were simply to socialize.
Regardless, at all of them, I petitioned for supplies and watched for spies. So far, I hadn’t been able to identify a single spy, though I had my suspicions.
Today I was invited to a luncheon at the home of Rose Greenhow. We met Rose and her late husband when they lived in San Francisco in the early 1850s, her husband having been sent there by the State Department. She returned to Washington almost ten years ago after he died.
It took me less than two minutes to walk to Rose’s house that afternoon. Spring was in full bloom on Lafayette Square, with summer-like temperatures, the smell of blossoming flowers, and the sound of birds twittering in the trees. The sun was bright as I walked up the front steps and onto the porch of Rose’s home. Her butler answered my knock and welcomed me into the foyer. The house wasn’t large, but it was decorated well—though the furnishings were showing their age. The carpet was thin and worn, and the draperies looked bleached by the sun. It was a surprise that Rose had not remarried for financial security, though she never seemed to be alone or desperate.
“Margaret,” Rose said the moment she saw me. Her parlor was full of people, both men and women, standing with beverages in hand. They were laughing and talking as if a war wasn’t looming beyond the front door. I immediately saw abolitionist Senator Henry Wilson from Massachusetts, as well as a gentleman from the State Department, one from the Department of the Treasury, and one from the War Department. It was rumored that Rose dallied with several of them, even thoughall were married. I had my doubts, though, and assumed none of the rumors were true.
“Good afternoon,” I said. “Thank you for inviting me today.”
“What are old friends for?” She smiled. “I believe there are several people here you know, my dear.”
I was surprised to see one familiar face. He met my gaze at the same moment.
“Mr. Cooper,” Rose called, motioning for him to join us.
“I hadn’t realized you and Mr. Cooper were so well acquainted,” I told Rose, feeling at a loss. Hadn’t they just met at Kate Chase’s ball a month ago?
“We got along so well at the Chases’ home, I knew I needed to include him in my inner circle.” She touched my arm and leaned toward me. “Isn’t he exquisite? I intend to make him my conquest.”
Her words shocked me, though they shouldn’t have, given the rumors I’d heard. Perhaps theywereall true.
“It’s nice to see you again, Miss Wakefield,” Gray said as he arrived at our side and offered me a bow.
“I’ll leave you two to visit.” Rose winked at me. “Don’t keep Mr. Cooper all to yourself, though. I intend to have him at my side during luncheon.” She brushed Gray’s arm with her hand before she walked away.
It rankled me—for more than one reason.
Gray smiled at Rose’s retreating form, clearly taken with her, and my stomach fell. Was he already one of Rose’s conquests? Had I been a fool to think his attention toward me was special?
The room felt overly warm, and I no longer wanted to be there. I had started to think of excuses I could make to leave when Gray asked, “How goes your work with Miss Barton?”
I didn’t want Gray to see my disappointment in his relationship with Rose. If the connection I felt with him wasn’t special, then I would look the fool. And there was still the matter of his allegiance to the Union. I had not put my suspicions to rest.
“It hasn’t been easy,” I answered, lifting my chin. “Each time I think we have enough supplies to meet the needs, another regiment arrives, and we are woefully unprepared.”
He held a glass of punch, though he didn’t seem interested in drinking it. “Miss Barton is bringing supplies out to the new camps at Arlington this very afternoon.”
“You’ve spoken to her?”
“She has returned to the War Department several times, and although I cannot get the government to help her, they cannot dictate what I do in my free time. I volunteered to meet her at her boardinghouse today at four and help her bring supplies to Arlington.”
“I did too,” I said quickly. Though it wasn’t true, I would make it true. If Papa knew I was going to a military camp, he would have a fit, but if Clara could go, why couldn’t I? Clara would appreciate the company—wouldn’t she? And it would give me more time to interrogate Gray.
A new arrival entered the parlor. We looked up to see one of the doormen from the White House. He locked gazes with Gray and strode to his side, breathing heavily.
“What’s wrong?” Gray asked, his entire body going rigid.
“Colonel Ellsworth has been killed.”
“Killed? When? Where?”
